


For Many Sorrows

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Character of Color, Comment Fic, Community: fic_promptly, M/M, POV Male Character, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-05
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Night is the blotting paper for many sorrows."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	For Many Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**fic_promptly**](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/). Originally posted in response to [this prompt](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/31935.html?thread=1368767&format=light#cmt1368767): _Author's choice, author's choice, "Night is the blotting paper for many sorrows."_

The nights are defined by what Cougar doesn't say. Not until Clay gets his lips and teeth and tongue on every inch of Cougar's skin, thrusts and twists and crooks his fingers until Cougar's sweating and bucking, 'til Cougar surges up, throws Clay on his back, and ruts against his thigh. Then Cougar has a lot of things to say, bites them into Clay's shoulder, murmurs them against his lips — some Spanish, some English, some a third language, maybe Portuguese — but mostly it's a string of syllables and curses, an angry _more_ or a choked, tight _Clay_.

When Clay gets his hand wrapped around Cougar's cock, it's like Cougar remembers that he's the quiet one, and his jaw clenches, lips sealing tight against a moan or a gasp or a sweet, sharp inhale.

"Come on, Coug," Clay murmurs. "Give it to me. Don't shut down on me now."

But Cougar closes his eyes, makes one last soft sound, and all Clay's left with is the flutter of Cougar's eyes, the clench of Cougar's fingers around his arms, and the convulsive bob of Cougar's Adam's apple when he gulps in air. Clay wants to tell Cougar that he remembers, too, and nothing's going to chase away the sight of the chopper going down, of those kids — so goddamn _young_. And nothing's going to erase the ever-constant, _It should've been us_. For either of 'em.

Still. Clay can't help whispering, "Come on, Carlos," as he squeezes Cougar's cock, traces the tat on Cougar's chest and mouths at the shadows sketched down Cougar's throat. If it's just the two of 'em here in this room, then it has to be the two of them _together_.

Maybe it's the _Carlos_ that does it — Clay doesn't know — but Cougar opens his eyes and comes. He moans so loudly that they might get complaints — not that they have yet, but it could happen. Clay catches him when he slumps over, sliding his fingers through the sweat beaded on Cougar's back as he strokes Cougar to shivering and gasping out a quiet, "Enough."

Clay doesn't let go, but he goes still, staring at the wall while Cougar catches his breath, the beat of Cougar's heart slowing 'til Clay can't feel it thumping against his skin anymore. But they're still alive, still breathing, and they both know they shouldn't be.


End file.
